By the Time I got to the Typewriter

By the Time I got to the Typewriter

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto

By the Time I got to the Typewriter

 

liberated ink

burn the bra that inhibits the pen

let the word drawings protest the seclusion

of thought,

allow the breast of insipid longing to be heard

like a swollen heartbeat,

shake free of the curbed meanings

walk on the wild side of the keys

let's Woodstock the poets

into a weekend of madness

let truth skinny dip in the pond of unrestrained tones

the colors of love singing deep into the night

deep into the crevasses of joyous mutiny

Yasgar's farm a white sheet onto which we spill in hordes

of gladness,

 

write in three day streams of consciousness

pipe dreams ringing out testimonials of explicit faith

in a human nature

devoured by carnivorous establishment

that has stripped our souls

of the music within

and left vinyl remnants of smoldering ashes

as clues

that we once were,

 

if only to lay down our wares

long enough to make an impression in the mud

that others now walk through barefoot

trying to feel again

something

that's forever lost.

© 2020 jacob erin-cilberto


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Reviews

Love the feelings of musi, love and words coming together for their own Woodstock, where the battle of the bands sound like a Vietnam war movie soundtrack trying to drown out the tambourines and folk folk from getting into their groove.
Making our impression in the mud that others walk through really captures both the sentiment and my imagination.
Already see huge words written on sandy beaches, with space between each line for people to wander along with the words, decorate with shells and handprints and make poetry communal.
I was there man! You totally took us there 😀

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

thank you, Lorry, for taking that trip with me.
j.
We know who we were. Our music tells who we were. It is up to us to pass that down the line. My music of the sixties blazes in a household that has twenty year olds in it. They get a good dose of it and so do their friends when they come round. I'm still living it and telling the stories :)

Chris

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

likewise here, Chris...
still living it, loving it...and wishing for some kind of return to w.. read more
Something about cabin fever makes your skin feel too tight, bustin' loose are ya? well good on ya!

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

ah yes, bustin' loose....I wish.
thank you, Corset,
j.
Corset

1 Month Ago

careful what you wish for J
Sounds like"Burning Man" festival...freedom, liberation, expression of art, splashes of color, words; leave the vinyl home; let's re-new our lives with stream of consciousness, burning bras; lets really make an impression, so the nest generations will know who we were. I'm probably totally off base...but....
Lovely write! B

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

you are never off base with my poems, Betty...I want readers to see what they see and feel what they.. read more
Betty Hermelee

1 Month Ago

Thanks Jacob; I'm still in the learning curve!
This had me initially heading for Phoenix but when the suggestion of burning my bra came up, well I guess I am not quite as adventurous as all that
and then I suppose, the girdle?
Hmm, I don't think so!

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

ha ha ha, thanks, Dave.
j.
This is right up my alley! I'm all for an uninhibited wild-a*s celebration of almost ANYTHING! You've nailed the exact sensation I try to stir up in myself before writing a poem in this vein. The more often I go here lately, the less I want to return. Thanks for jacking up our senses to the nth degree! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

PS: Title worth framing.

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

thank you for your kind review and understanding, Margie...
Yes, I know...i did my own versio.. read more
barleygirl

1 Month Ago

I just watched a Glen Campbell concert DVD last evening, so it was fresh on my mind . . .
There is nothing like the sheer uninhibited joy of writing and the freedom of expression it allows. It is increasingly needed in this time of iron clad establishments. A wonderful declaration for all poets to enjoy. Take up the pens or typewriters, keyboards or phones and bring out the joy of words. Love the sixties vibe, here.

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

thank you for your kind review, Inessa,
j.
This poem makes me want to rip my clothes off and write poetry, naked.


Posted 1 Month Ago


Gee

1 Month Ago

I've covered my eyes..
jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

damn, Ana,
I tried not to look.
Ana Papaya

1 Month Ago

( :

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Added on August 11, 2020
Last Updated on August 11, 2020

Author

jacob erin-cilberto
jacob erin-cilberto

Carbondale, IL



About
Originally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at two community colleges and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. Friending works two ways. If we have had .. more..

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